All the Vague Things
by SeungSeiRan
Summary: Remember me always. Forget me not. Steve x Julia.


And once again I have been side-tracked. Yeah, I know it's a bad habit :(. Anyhow, about this fic, very wistful, very strange, very delirious. Don't like it, don't leave a review. It's just that songs by Sarah Brightman always remind me of Julia. And FF-7's Aerith. And Soul Calibur's Sophitia. And… never mind. Pairing? Read on, my friends. Lyrics are not meant to be taken literally.

* * *

_Are you going to Scarborough Fair?_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme_

_**Remember me to one who lives there**_

_**He once was a true love of mine**_

_Tell him to make me a cambric shirt_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme_

_Without no seams nor needlework_

_Then he'll be a true love of mine_

- Scarborough Fair, Sarah Brightman

* * *

**Him**

Yesterday, I couldn't concentrate in class. So, I watched the weak rays of the sun filter through the glass…

And I thought of him.

It's an early morning in early October. It's too cold for summer, it's too warm for winter. I felt the sun rise as I lay in bed, cocooned in a pile of blankets. It's warm but I'm cold. In the back of my mind, I know I've forgotten something. As to what it is, I have no idea. Perhaps it's one those things we forget that we've forgotten. For some reason, I feel upset as if it's something important.

Maybe it's something so silly it deserves to be remembered.

And then, I got it.

It's the tenth of the month. It's his birthday.

Why should I remember?

My dorm-mates are still asleep so I move quietly. The water is cold but I don't mind. I looked out of the window and watched the leaves fall. Orange, brown, and red. I get an urge to dive into the neat little heaps of dead leaves but I repress it because I shouldn't. A starling hops onto the window-sill and stares into my eyes. Its feathers are mossy-green and dappled with spots of cream-white. I stare right back because it's not where it should be.

It's too cold a temperate for a bird of its kind. It would do best to leave. Fly away to warmer skies. To the South, to the East. Anywhere but here.

When I was eight, I found a dead sparrow lying on the porch. It was frozen stiff and I cried. My mother comforted me but it was no good. Words cannot bring back the dead. No matter what the shamans of our tribe tend to believe.

Sometimes, love isn't enough to bring back the lost.

The starling flew off after I told it to look out for him. Perhaps it will, perhaps it won't.

He took me out once. Not on a date. Just out. He tried to make me feel a bit better about myself. Telling me that my efforts weren't going to waste like I thought. The café was warm and cozy. The coffee was milky and sweet. I asked him if he was alright. I knew he wasn't because he smiled and said that he was fine.

I wondered if he wanted to let it all out. I wouldn't have minded if he had. If it had made _him_ feel better then _I_ would have felt better.

We watched the cherry-blossoms fall. It pained me because the bare trees seemed so tragic. I fell asleep on his shoulder…

I dreamed of blue skies and butterflies. And us.

I woke up in my hotel-room. I guess he must have carried me home. How sad, I missed it.

From then onwards, I've been thinking these thoughts. I don't tell anyone because they'd only laugh. Or even worse, sigh.

A white-washed house with a tall tree in the front-garden. The two of us, happy and content as can be. Maybe a fat, lazy cat snoozing by the fire-side. And the little ones playing on the floor, merry and blissful…

Is it too much to ask?

I wish I'd told him when we said good-bye. I saw it in his eyes. And I'm sure he saw it in mine.

But it's no use now. We are broken. So here I am, alone and silent. Wishing that he was here with me. Hoping that he remembers too…

In my secret heart, I tell him to try. It's alright to feel weak. We all do at one point in our lives. Please be strong and don't succumb to what was laid down in the past. Don't forget who _you _are. Brush off the dirt and grow stronger. Until we meet again…

Remember me.

Remember me.

Remember me.

I've let my heart fly away on the wings of a messenger.

And I wonder.

* * *

_Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme_

_And to gather it all in a bunch of heather_

_Then she'll be a true love of mine_

_Are you going to Scarborough Fair?_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme_

_**Remember me to one who lives there**_

_**She once was a true love of mine**_

- Scarborough Fair, Simon and Garfunkel.

* * *

**Her**

Last night, I couldn't sleep. So, I went out to a pub and got wasted…

I dreamt of her.

I woke up in a garden. Fox-gloves and roses grew on my right, an herb garden flourished on my left. There are several tiny cuts on my bare hands and cheeks which meant that I had taken a drunken tumble through the brambles. Today must be important because a little voice whispers at the back of my mind. Oddly, a sense of dread crawls through me, making me feel ill and uneasy.

Perhaps it's better if I shouldn't remember.

Unfortunately, I did.

The tenth of October. My birthday.

Why can't I forget?

The sun is beginning to creep up into the sky. A gust blows right through me and I shiver. I sat up and took note of my surroundings. Green grass, sturdy oak-trees, a squirrel scurrying across a branch. I'd like to climb one of those oaks but my aching head tells me otherwise. A bird is perched on one of those branches. I squint and notice its greenish-brown feathers. A starling. Surprising, considering that they don't prefer this type of climate.

If it were me, I'd spread my wings and fly away. Leave these memories behind for the present. North or South, anywhere but here.

As a kid, I'd always wondered if there was someone out there. Waiting for me, searching for me like I searched for them. Me, alone in the world, drifting from one foster home to the next. They'd welcome me with kind words and then push me out without as much as a 'goodbye'.

Sometimes, love isn't enough to wash away the past.

I told the starling to comfort her before it flew off. Maybe it will, maybe it won't

When I took her out, she'd seemed quiet and pensive. I'd done it so she wouldn't feel as alone as I felt. Make her giggle and smile as someone of her age should. It was a nice cozy place. The aroma of the coffee seeped into our clothes. Smart lass. She'd seen right through the act that I'd put on for her. It had made me feel worse.

If I'd told her, she would've understood. And she could have told _me_ what was on _her _mind. Stupid, foolish me.

As we watched the pink cherry-blossoms fall, I felt her head rest against my shoulder. Finally, someone who actually wanted me…

Fantasies of rainbows and sunshine ran through my mind. And us.

I dared not wake her from her slumber. So I carried her back to the hotel, cherishing her warmth in my arms, wishing she could be mine.

I lie awake at night, dreaming of dreams which seem so far from my grasp. And I keep them to myself because no one could ever understand.

Me and her. A spring wedding, a new beginning. A home of our own. Perhaps a few pets. And kids, running around and shrieking with laughter…

Yes, I do think about these things.

I can only regret not telling her. It haunts me because she knew. And she saw me for who I truly am.

Yet, what else can I do now? What could have been will probably never will be. This time, I try not to forget…

Silently, I tell her that I'm sorry. And not to worry. Believe in yourself like I believe in you. Don't bend down and break to anyone's will. Never lose your powers of understanding and intuition because it's made you what you are; the only pure, good thing in my life. Be strong because I need you to be. Until we meet again…

Don't forget me.

Don't forget me.

Don't forget me.

I've laid out my answer to you on a messenger in the sky.

And I wonder.

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**Ugh, **_**not**_** the best I've come up with. If the songs seemed kinda odd to you, do check out the links on my profile to get a better feel of the story. Review if you like.**


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